Your Heart Beats In Time With My Wings
by Chazymandias
Summary: Sherlock has wings. John doesn't know. Well, he does now... A little bit o' fluff towards the end.


**Cover picture drawn by the gorgeous Kay, also viewable on her deviantart (link on our profile)**

"Sherlock! I'm just going out to the shops to get some stuff, I'll be back in about half an hour" With that John left, calling a greeting to Mrs. Hudson as he passed.

Watching from the window, Sherlock was sure that John was truly gone and so he sighed happily and released his wings. They stretched out across the living room and quivered with strain. Leaning round to rub the base of them, Sherlock sighed again. The dark purple feathers rippled outwards and the tips flicked as he shook them out, moulting a couple of feathers as he did so. Sherlock made a mental note to pick them up before John spotted them.

Content that there was nothing amiss, Sherlock sat down on the sofa, in a patch of sun and smiled. He so rarely got to release his wings that any opportunity was treasured. It wasn't that he didn't trust John, just, Mycroft had made him promise that no-one would know. He leant his head back, enjoying the feeling of freedom and promptly fell asleep.

"Sherlock, I'm baaaack" John called as he came up the stairs to the flat. Getting no reply didn't phase him as that often happened. He carried the bag into the kitchen and proceeded to unpack it and put everything away. Then, seeing that it was nearly 4 o'clock John decided to make a cup of tea. Once finished with that, he turned and walked through to the living room where he stopped dead and very nearly dropped the steaming mug.

Were those... wings?

Sherlock had wings? What?

Sherlock pulled himself out of a lovely dream filled with sunshine and open air to find John staring at him.

JOHN!

It wasn't often that Sherlock panicked but now he did. Jumping to his feet he span and nearly decapitated his flatmate in an attempt to get to the door. He was in the hall when he heard John call:

"Sherlock"

No, no! John couldn't have seen them! He'll want to tell someone. He'd put it on his blog. Already a freak, don't want to be in a cage. Experiments were something he did, not had done to him. Sherlock's mind was going crazy trying to work out how to get out of this situation. He could hear Mrs. Hudson dusting downstairs so that wasn't an option. The window then? But no, ever since that ridiculous hat incident there was always someone hanging around.

"Sherlock, sit down." Slowly, Sherlock turned. John was sat in his chair, just looking at him. He appeared so calm that Sherlock did as he said and sat back on the sofa, not knowing what to expect.

"You have wings Sherlock, I don't know if you noticed this fact?"

"You still have a firm grasp on the obvious then John?" Now convinced that it wasn't a prank or a trick of some sort John grinned.

"Why are you smiling?" This was it, he was going to call someone. Sherlock began to worry again, steepling his fingers in agitation.

"I think they suit you."

I think they contrast with your skin beautifully and would go even better with my bed sheets, was what John was actually thinking, but he'd long since learnt not to say those things out loud.

"Suit me?" Sherlock repeated, gobsmacked. That was unexpected.

"Yes you fool. They suit you."

"I... Uh, um... Thank you?" Sherlock had lost all rational thought by this point and wasn't completely sure that he was safe, but the raw terror had calmed.

"Can I touch them?" John asked bluntly.

Sherlock didn't respond just brought one round and rested the tip on John's shoulder. John reached his hand up a stroked a finger against the black end of a feather. This made Sherlock shiver slightly but he didn't notice, too engrossed in watching emotions cross John's face as he worked his fingers between the feathers.

"They're so soft" John remarked quietly as he continued to weave him fingers between them. Suddenly Sherlock knew what he wanted to do. He stood and grabbed John's hands and pulled him to his feet. Then, carefully, avoiding the skull, wrapped both wings around them.

Cocooned inside these awe inspiring wings John felt safe. He'd never realised just how, well, beautiful Sherlock was. He looked up at the man, who was watching him nervously. An idea cemented itself in his mind and he acted on it instantly. Standing on his tiptoes John gently pressed his lips against Sherlock's and at the same time, ran his fingers through the feathers closest. Sherlock gasped slightly but then pulled John closer to him and responded likewise. His wings appearing to ripple as he did so.

After minutes of kissing had passed they broke apart, breathing heavily and after one look at each other they started laughing. Sparkling, bubbling laughter that built from deep inside and overflowed.

Sherlock turned to John, "I think I should release my wings more often, don't you?"

**I've slightly edited this thanks to some feedback, I don't know if it's better or worse or there is no difference at all, but I hope it's still readable...**


End file.
